I couldn’t help but feel she had somehow swindled me yet again. The interaction left me drained, though also hopeful. Maybe my questions will soon be answered. It was enough to make me forget about the argument with Louise. When I returned to my room, I unsuspectingly picked up my phone, only to find a series of missed calls.

I called her back.

“I’m sorry,” she answered immediately. “I really shouldn’t have insulted your work like that.”

That was much more like the Louise I knew. I could not blissfully accept her apology, not without acknowledging the ways she had been right.

“I’m sorry too,” I said. “I had a lot to think about. And you made some good points that I didn’t want to consider. Not right now.”

“I was jealous, to be honest.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I told my parents earlier today that I was changing majors and what I was going to do instead.”

“Did they not take it well?”

“Not at all. They kept asking what I was going to do for money and if stories could pay, which of course I couldn’t say yes to, and we had a huge spat while my doctor brother watched gleefully from the corner.”

I winced. “You’re not going to let that change your mind though, right?”

She paused.

“No. Not right now. I’m still hoping I get that grant. It’s kind of a big deal. I think if I had that, they might take me seriously. Or maybe one day I’ll end up crawling back to them because I really don’t have any money.” She gave a weak laugh. “It stinks that everything revolves around money. But hey, at least one of us will have it.”

“I don’t know if I’ll actually sign on to the job,” I said. “I need to think about it.”

“Oh.” She sounded relieved. “Well, good to know we are both at a crossroads, then.”

I smiled. “It’s not so bad with the right companion.”

“Will you still say that when your companion is poor and unemployed?”

“Then I’ll protect her even more fiercely.”

She laughed. “I’m so relieved you called me back. I was really worried. I think—” She cut herself off.

“Hm?”

“Ah, nothing. Look at us. We’ve survived the first fight of our relationship! We should get ice cream.”

What was our relationship even? What did she think it was? Did she count the number of fights she got into with all her friends? Or was that for romantic relationships only? I was more confused than ever.

“Come visit again, and I’ll buy you ice cream,” I nevertheless agreed. “And maybe I’ll show you something else too.”

“Oh?” Her tone was impossible to decipher.

“Something you’ll really love.”

“There . . . are a few things you could show me that I would really love.”